


the eight of life

by angelicwerewolf



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Eye Horror, Idk if the anxiety is too obvious but, Implications/Mentions of Anxiety & Depresssion, Not Beta Read, Prophetic Visions, Supernatural Elements, i think the implied depression is, idk what else to tag this uhhh, so pls be careful if you read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicwerewolf/pseuds/angelicwerewolf
Summary: The more official term of the affliction was The Eight of Life, The Infinity Symbol — Sure, It looked like an eight billiard ball but it was far from that. It was a permanent horror, a terrible little thing that showed him both good and bad. Domingo — Or as how he aptly calls himself to strangers, Eight Eye — Does not remember exactly how he acquired this thing. If there’s one thing he knows is that he loathes it, with it’s premonitions and both physical and mental pain.But if there’s at least one good thing he can say about the eye, though, is that it’s helped people.





	the eight of life

**Author's Note:**

> old oc I suddenly remembered and got very sad that I forgot about him so here he is, two recent drawings later and now a drabble about him! my chromebook is still dead so apologies for any formatting errors

Eight Eye had the unfortunate tendency to stand out quite a fair bit among most crowds. Not because of his aversion of contact nor his general silence, not even the medical eyepatch — what made attention fall on him was the general miserable look on his face and the fact his hair was bright and two-colored.

It almost made him look like cotton candy, or a cake pop, something usually related to a sweet — or so people have complimented, if you asked him though, he looked like a poor soggy marshmallow left out in the sun too long. He felt tired and quite hollow — like nothing in the world was really.. there.

He assumed he looked, and of course felt like, as much yet again sitting on the park bench. Eight Eye had his arms slumped and limp between his legs with his body slouching against the backrest. The park was lively with late morning sun rays and chattering people and birds, all such a big contrast with the tired soul of Eight Eye — but the place made him feel at ease; calm and peaceful as if his turmoils had never been there. The pigeons and geese were a delight to feed and watch as well, always such carefree things without a care or trouble in the world — He envied them, honestly.

Somewhere between his internal musings a man had snapped him out of it when he took seat next to him on the other end of the bench. He wore a mustard colored apron dusted in smudges of batter and blue frosting, and his fingers had the distinct stains of food dye. It was safe to say he worked at a nearby bakery.

“Hullo,” The baker said with a smile that jolted Eight Eye out his silence and thoughts. “Something the matter?”

“Oh?” He wasn’t staring at the baker at any point — He desperately hopes. “I’m just dandy. Why?”

“You look troubled.”

“Ah. I get that a lot, but no, I’m fine.” He switched his eyes on the baker to the geese in the lake; concentrating on them as much as possible as to not spill out much life details and start venting to a total stranger. “I just didn’t get a good night’s rest.”

“Stuff keeping you up, eh?”

He shrugged. “I suppose you could say that, yeah,” Eight Eye slumped a little more and buried himself in his turtleneck, then sighed to himself. The baker was nice enough if a little nosy, though he didn’t think of it as nothing but good intentions.

“I’m Jerry,” Jerry started again and Eight Eye glanced his way, blinking, a little bit surprised. “What’s your name?”

“Uh, Eight Eye.”

“Eight Eye?” Jerry looked off into space — by which it means somewhere between the lake and sky — and put his chin between his thumb and index, pondering and humming. “What a strange name!”

“No one said names had to be normal.“

“Touché, touché.” Jerry nodded in a wise old man kind of way. “I assume your name takes after a billiard ball, huh? I feel you— I was named after the mouse in a cartoon.”

He was.. almost right, almost worryingly so, and while his real name was actually Domingo, he did name himself Eight Eye. For the simple reason that the eye under the medical patch was, in fact, and eight ball — and the choosing of the name was certainly some worrisome sense of irony on his part. Somewhere in his mind that seemed like a good idea at the time; maybe to cope or to make fun of himself.

He decides not to go down that rabbit hole and turns his full attention to Jerry again; only that when he does; he feels a jolt of almost electric pain that ripples through his head into the eight-ball eye.

“No, no, no,” Eight Eye groaned through grit teeth which seems to catch Jerry’s own attention to the situation.

He frowns, worried, and asks, “Eight Eye? What’s wrong?”

The pain, as always, is immeasurable and insufferable so he can’t quite answer right at the moment. The pain of his eye and visions always stab him with a mixture of different head related pains and by the end of it, a powerful migraines remains and today was no damn different.

Eight Eye let his guard down for one second and was not even left to prepare for it. He was instead left to press the palm of his hand so hard against the the eye under his patch, that it shifted and dipped, but that wasn’t hurting anything that was already hurting.

“S- Sir?”

“What you see is what you’ll perceive.”

Jerry blinked. “Uh. I- Come again?”

“Jerry.” He said gently in a tone that indicated no more hurt— The pain dissolved for now, but he was visibly shaken. “You walk back and forth on foot to get to the bakery, right?”

“H- How,” Jerry recoiled back a little bit, but gave a look of utter confusion. do you know that..?”

“I want you to listen to me, for the sake of your safety.” He points to where concrete divides ground and lake. “You’ll be taking the same path home you have since your car got busted, but if you do that today, you’ll meet complications— unsafe and bloody complications.” He drops his hand and hoists himself up to his feet. “If you want to keep yourself alive, I implore you to take a ride home with your coworker. I know I sound mad, but heed my warning.

There’s a lot of things in this universe we don’t understand, and my affliction is one of them.” With that said, Eight Eye gives Jerry one more glance and swiftly turns on his heels and walks away— leaving a confused, quite frightened, man on the bench.

_____________________

When the sun shone its last rays of the day and swooped down the horizon lines, allowing the nighttime in, did Eight Eye awoke in his bed after having slept most of the day away.

He’d managed to nurse most of the migraine away but there was still a slight phantom headache. It was nothing to unbearable, at least, he’ll manage.

He sat up on his bed and ripped the eyepatch off and tossed it aside as he looked at the window to the night skies outside. It’s almost a routine to sleep during the day when he’s not at work himself, but did he feel like a truck ran him over every time he got up at this time.

Regardless — Eight Eye got up from his bed and staggered out to the kitchen where his dog and cat greeted him with meowing and tail wags; he gave them a both pat before serving them dinner — a small bowl with the name Willow and a bigger one with the name Benny were set down quickly after and as they ate; Eight Eye simply heated some leftovers in the microwave.

He had a perfectly working and neat kitchen table though he barely used it, so to no surprise, Eight Eye sat in the couch with the telly on to dine and, soon joined by Willow and Benny, they watched the first flicker of news.

‘ _Good Evening, Town of Westray. This happened just recently so news is still coming in as we go, but tonight at The Welling Geese Park there was a complication between a group of friends; two people have been sent to the hospital and the fate of others are still unknown._

_We have a few witnesses, one of them was parked by the park when things happened. Jerry?’_

_Jerry on screen did not look like the Jerry on the bench. He was shaken, his friend nearby soothing him with a hand squeeze._

‘ _He told me.’_

_‘Who told you?’ Asked the reporter, holding their mic up to Jerry._

_‘This guy I met earlier_ _today! He.. I think he prophesied this. He told me..’_

He did heed his warning, by staying in the car with his friend, so his presence there must’ve been curiosity to see if he was right — Eight Eye smiled even if a little bit at the screen to know that Jerry had avoided the complications — Then switched to another channel.

**Author's Note:**

> Jerry - Just a random character I made up for this specifically, not rlly important to the story as a whole  
> Westray - Fictional town set in England.  
> Welling Geese Park - Fictional park in the aforementioned fictional town.  
> Willow - Japanese Bobtail Cat with white fur and black spots.  
> Benny - Siberian Husky with chesnut and white fur.


End file.
